


Something just like this

by bleedingrainbows



Category: Rainbow Marvel
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedingrainbows/pseuds/bleedingrainbows
Summary: spfmly drabbles





	1. Chapter 1

The way the boy looked around, full of dread and wonder, broke Steve’s heart once more. _Jesus Christ._

“Tony… he’s _never_ seen any of this.”

The little kid had never seen the outside, he’s never seen the sky or stepped on the grass at all, he’s never felt the wind. That was beyond inhuman.

He and Tony didn't have the heart to leave the kid alone in those days that they still had to keep him indoors, for several examinations after he’s being rescued from the lab. They simply didn't. They would only be dragged out of there by force - and no one would even try such thing. They were oriented by psychologists and the social assistants instead, and allowed to be near when they had to do medical procedures.

Tony was practical and he had a lot of ideas, which he could solve with phone calls. And many were just simple empathy. Bring some toys. New, colorful clothes. Cartoon-themed blanket, colorful rugs made of craft foam. Leave it there calmly, explaining what’s that for. If the kid has to be kept in a room, then make it better to him.

The boy always nodded or shook his head to their questions, as if conditioned to answer, but they’ve never listened to his voice if not for the small grunts he lets out when someone sticks a needle in his skin. He seemed interested in everything new both Steve and Tony brought to him, but he never touched anything unless it’s given straight to him. They make soft moves, nothing sudden, and leave a toy near him.

Meanwhile, S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence went on trying to look for his family, without success. Every test they made on the kid showed that he was physically healthy and well-fed, no nutrients missing at all. It seemed that even Vitamin D, activated by sunlight, was somehow regulated, even though he had clearly either never felt the sun on his pale skin or he doesn't remember it anymore.

Tony kept on wearing his armor, so he chose the slenderest, thinnest one he’s got so he could be comfortable, and Steve kept on wearing his uniform, because that was how the boy seemed to trust them. That was what he was wearing when he rescued him. And he only lets Tony carry him, otherwise he cries - he hardly really fights it if not for tightening a hug, he just cries and reaches out for Tony. It was unbearable how obedient he grew to be, and it was like seeing a circus animal that was trained with hot metal and chains.

In that end of afternoon, when they are walking to the garden, Tony had him on his lap and speaks softly to the boy, as he had been doing through it all. He tells him what he is seeing and what they are going to do. Steve witnessed it all mesmerized and tight-chested, feeling the strangest and strongest will of making sure nothing bad ever happens to that little kid, knowing that it was a dangerous feeling to have.

“Do we go on?” Tony asked Steve, trying to look at the kid’s face. “Does he- does he look too frightened?”

In front of everyone else, Tony seems in control, but he’s terrified, and not that afraid of showing it to his husband. Steve can see it in his eyes, he’s terrified of scarring that little boy that seemed to have chosen him as his solace, his protector. Iron Man didn't look like a regular human, even with the mask off, and probably even a robot would be more trustful than a horrible human in his eyes. He wasn’t one of those humans in white clothes that did him so much harm.

Steve looked at the big light brown eyes open wide, looking around without stopping. He was indeed probably frightened, but he is definitely not in panic. When their eyes met, Steve smiled at him and reached out for his hand slowly. He didn't pull away, just stared at the dark red gloved hand and allowed him to touch his skin. Steve caressed tenderly his arm.

“He’s curious. He seems to be really a curious person by nature. I think we should go on.”

Tony had the garden emptied for them. S.H.I.E.L.D. had several compounds, and all of them had big gardens and sports fields, surrounded by lots of trees. In that one, a small pond reflected the sky, which in that twilight, was dying in orange, pink and red, light coming from behind the trees. Soon it would be dark and the post lights throughout the way would lit up, not letting the darkness take over, but they intended to come back soon.

They walked downstairs to a small path. There were lots of flowers in that spring, and there the vegetation was taken care of attentively. There were benches and fountains nearby, and in one point they left the stone path and stepped on the grass. Finding a spot underneath a tree, they stopped. It was near a fountain and the pond, but not too close so it threatens him falling. There were a flowers in the bushes nearby and some birds were tweeting on the branches of the tree.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tony said low. “Let’s stop here for a while, ok? I’m going to put you on the ground just a little, and we’re gonna stay here with you the whole time, ok?” He already felt him gripping stronger around his metallic shoulders. “I promise you we won't leave you alone and no one else is getting near.”

Steve walked a few steps aside and picked a yellow cinquefoil on the bushes.

“The flowers here are beautiful. Do you like this flower? I love them. You can touch.” He offered the small flower to him and he reached out, holding it, frowning not in displeasure, but in finding it all weird.

“Look there!” Tony then pointed at the pond. “In the surface of the water, that’s a duck. That’s one, two, three ducks!” Tony said with an excited tone, even if with low volume, showing the one, two and three with his own fingers.

Steve watched them with a warmth in his chest. He always knew how sweet, kind and loving Tony could be, he just hasn't seen it with kids. The last four days would have been quite a delight to watch, if it didn't depend on such stressful, sensible, sorrowful environment. Steve sighed and smiled.

“Well, if you two won’t come then I’ll lay here myself!” Steve said as if nonchalant, and took his shield and backpack off his back before throwing himself on the ground, sitting and then laying on the grass.

The boy tilted his head like a puppy as he looked at him and Steve unavoidably giggled at his cuteness. Then he pulled his backpack, put his hand inside it and picked a hippo plush toy, one he noticed throughout those days he particularly liked. “Look who’s here! Mr. Hippo!”

He could’ve sworn he had just seen a ghost of a smirk on his small lips.

Still with the boy on his arms, Tony crouched beside Steve on the ground. With that, he released the grasp, so Tony could put him standing right in front of them, and Steve handed him the plush toy. He just stood there, hugging his hippo to his chest, and keeping the flower’s stalk of the flower firm in a closed fist, unsure of what to do, even though his eyes were still scrutinizing the place. He looked at them both several times, from one to another, and reluctantly crouched. He touched the grass and pulled his hand back, as if he didn't like the texture or found it weird. He got up again.

“That’s ok. So, you wanna walk around? Go on. You can pick to yourself whatever you want.” Steve said, sweetly, and he dared to walk a few little steps towards the bushes, looking back at them suddenly.

“We’re right here, kiddo!” Tony assured.

Yet glancing back, he walked to the bushes and started touching the leaves. He just stood there, one arm hugging the hippo and the other stretched forward so he can touch things, feel their texture.

“You know, you would be a great father.” Steve said, low, and seized the metallic hand of his. Tony looked at him as if he had said something absurd.

“You really think so? I’m, I’m really going well in here?”

“I _know_ so. You’re going great. Not that I know much to say. But this kid just needs some affection. If he’s ever had one, he doesn't remember it. So we can’t really go wrong in this.”

Tony sighed and smiled softly, looking at the boy and waving at him when he looked back, concerned.

“I’m just so worried that we make him trust so fully and then in one moment and we aren't there.”

“If he’s got parents or relatives, they’ll too give him love. We’ll be there in the transition. We can make it go well.”

“What if he doesn't have relatives? What if he’s really all alone?”

The pain in Tony’s voice was clear, and Steve wasn't really any less strained. They just wanted that kid to be happy. They just wanted him to have a safe home, with people who loved him. He had embraced them from the beginning, bringing them in.

Truth was that they fell in love for that child, no matter the reason.

“We never really spoke about this, did we?” Steve said to Tony, looking at the boy.

“Spoke about what?”

“Parenthood.”

Tony didn't say anything, and they just shared one long, deep gaze. The next moment  had a synchrony so providential, with such a timing, that would make even skeptical Tony hesitate before things like fate or signs from the universe. In that moment they would remember for the rest of their lives, Tony’s phone rang. It was S.H.I.E.L.D.’s intelligence, the division that was responsible for running that case’s background. He answered with FRIDAY’s tech.

“It’s Tony.”

“Good afternoon, Mr.Stark-Rogers” A woman’s voice, with identity recognized by FRIDAY, started speaking. “I’m calling because you asked us to deliver immediately any finding about subject X’s past.”

Tony widened his eyes and glanced at the boy standing there by the bushes. His heart raced and he put the call on speakers.

“Yes, you did very well. We’re listening.”

“Subject’s name is Peter Parker, and according to data, he’s three years, eleven months and two days old, born in Queens, New York City. He was son of Mary and Richard Parker.”

“Was?” Steve frowned.

“Why didn't we find this before?” Tony asked at the same time.

“Because the program from which we rescued Peter apparently erased them from existence. They are all dead. Richard was a scientist that worked for Oscorp, a brilliant man. I’ll send you the entire report, but very summarizing, they wanted his information and made him work with the Project, and for so they blackmailed him by kidnapping his one year-old son. They’ve got Richard to quit Oscorp and move out of the country with his family. Two months later their plane crashed and the body of a baby was found there, falsely identified as their son Peter.”

Steve covered his face with his hands with a sorrowful sigh. They’ve killed the parents of a child and a one year old baby for their experiences. And there was this certainty that they were just in the tip of the iceberg. The woman on the phone went on.

“We asked for their location on the enterprise and when Oscorp found out that their files were corrupted and their whereabouts didn't match, they warned us. His entire family died in a matter of weeks in situations such as car accidents, robberies and suicide.  We’ll rerun the investigations but it’s pretty clear that it was evidence tampering and witness elimination.  The DNA matches. They got rid of anyone who could claim for the real Peter Parker, who they decided to keep for ulterior purposes. Still early to know, but it had probably something to do with genetic enhancements, just like the other subjects that had been rescued.”

Breathing heavily, Tony looked at Peter there, picking the little yellow flowers on the bush.

“Sir?” The woman asked, before his silence.

“Oh, thanks. Thanks for the information. Uh, just, just send me the files.”

“On it, sir.”

The call ended, but before Steve and Tony could talk about it, Peter came back. He had almost a bouquet of yellow flowers on his hands and the hippo under his armpit, and he stood in front of Steve. It was an unclear gesture because he was all clumsy, trying to hold the flowers and the hippo, but it seemed like he offered the flowers to him.

“For me?” Steve asked, and his voice even skipped.

Peter nodded once, very briefly, and Steve held the flowers, glancing at Tony.

“You said you loved them.” Tony said, swallowing hard, a lump in his throat.

Steve looked at Peter again.

“Thank you, Peter. Thank you so much, I loved them! You’re a great boy, I’m very happy!” Steve didn't have to pretend the emotion in his voice, even though it trembled. Without actually reacting to the sentence, Peter just sat down on the grass and lowered his head, looking at his hippo only.

Steve looked at Tony and it was clear as a diamond. Peter would not grow up without a family, not on their watch.


	2. Chapter 2

Both Steve and Tony were really silent inside the dimly illuminated room. They could hear their own breaths, while they were sitting on the single bed they’ve placed in their own bedroom, and now Peter seemed to have finally fallen asleep. Tony's hand was laid on the kid’s back, and Steve caressed his thin, brown hair with the utmost tenderness. It hasn’t been easy to get him to sleep, but they expected so - when Peter was finally getting used to his bedroom in S.H.I.E.L.D. compound, during the quarantine, getting out of his bed by himself and even sleeping voluntarily, not only when exhaustion takes him, he was taken out of there to that big, empty place that was their penthouse in the Avengers Tower.

But if it depended on them, it was the last place he would be moved to.

“Can we say it? Call him...” Tony hushed. His heart was hammering on his chest, his throat was tight. They shared one look, quite sure that Steve could finish the unsaid sentence. They certainly had been thinking the same.

“I think so.” Steve muttered, even lower.

That had been quite a day. That one higher point, bright to survive years and years to come of memory, came after they thought Peter would have to be sent to foster care before any procedures start. Noticing how the kid was depending on them, it was heartbreaking to imagine he would be there waiting for at least their presence when he wakes up. Steve and Tony spent their nights talking about that, after almost moving in to the compound, nights in which it was harder to fall asleep. It was in one of those moments that Tony announced his entrance before he storms in in the room Steve was on; he slid in his shoes, like a teenager. His smile was huge and as soon as he braked beside Steve, who held him by the waist, afraid he could get himself hurt. Then he showed him a digital document in a quick hologram, from a tablet device he had on his hand. “Guess who are his provisory guardians!”

“ _ You did it _ ?” Steve said with excitement on his voice, opening up that smile that was Tony’s true weakness. And Tony's was the only answer Steve needed, before hugging him close, taking him out of the ground an inch and making him laugh.

They were really happy. But when the night and the silence came, their chests were tight with the same considerations and musings they were concluding. Still, they haven't said that word. That one, about Peter.

Slowly, carefully, Tony pulled his hand away from the boy, and held his breath to see if he would wake up with the gesture. Nothing. He was soundly and deeply asleep.

“What if… you know?” Tony sighed, an intercut breath.

Steve did. What if provisory... meant  _ provisory? _

"If it's what's better for him, we can overcome it. If it isn't... we won't let it happen."

Tony chuckled; he knew Steve literally meant he would kidnap the child before letting anyone lay a hand on him or do him any harm. That was so alike him he had no doubt that it was exactly what he meant. Another wordless conversation took place between their eyes, and Steve's free hand reached out for his husband's.

It made his heart lighter, warmer. They would go through that together, whether it meant having their hearts broken, or enlarged, swollen with loving another person just as much as they love each other. Tony bent, really carefully, and dared to place a kiss on Peter’s hair.

“Sleep tight,  _ son _ .”


	3. Chapter 3

Next morning resembled a play in Steve’s eyes. There was a whole team of therapists and doctors and everything that Tony had set up from distance, from SHIELD, not to bring anyone else to the subject. Still, there was no one else but them both with Peter on that house physically. 

Overnight Tony was basically graduated in children nutrition just for the breakfast, what almost wouldn't even bedazzle Steve, so common it was - but it still never failed to enchant him. 

Peter had walked beside them to the kitchen after waking up and laying his eyes on them by the bed near him. He already sat down, seeming insecure, but still not really frightened. Maybe it was the eyes that told everything so well. They could almost read his train of thoughts sometimes, also because it seemed to be really coherent.

Steve felt like his heart was ten times wider, not only because of Peter crawling his way in, but because he found something  _ else  _ to admire Tony for. He was trying to pay attention in the littlest of things, like making sure everything bought was organic food and/or wholefood, and he had to be soothed when at six a.m. he was calculating calories in diets.

When Steve does so, Tony always feels a little like he is an avalanche or a vehicle without brakes, so blatantly obviously needing Steve for a safe harbor. But it was why year after year they showed themselves as the perfect fit for each other.

“Are you hungry, Peter? I think you’re going to like this.” Tony sat down beside Steve, in front of Peter, and placed the plate with chopped fruits, cereal and honey. Readily Peter offered his hand to hold the spoon, and Steve chuckled at how lost Tony got at that, as if unsure if he should hand him the spoon or still try to feed him himself.

“It’s hard to see you not knowing what to do, you see.” Steve placed one soft kiss on Tony’s cheek while holding the spoon and taking it gently from his hand to offer Peter.

“I call it a lie. I always don't know what to do about people. Or about you, for instance. You clearly did not see me before our marriage. The  _ only  _ thing I knew was that I wanted to marry you. I couldn't open a door knob by myself. It took Clint, I’ll stress for you in case you didn't get it,  _ Clint _ to tie the knot in my tie.”

Steve giggled.

“I’m sorry, I wouldn't notice. Before you came in I felt like I was Brooklyn me again. Weak legs, shortness of breath, cold hands.”

“I remember it!” Tony laughed. “It was like I was holding capsicle’s hands.”

Steve smiled foolishly at him.

“I love you, Tony bear.”

“I love you, too, Brooklyn baby.”

They laughed when they turned and saw how Peter was looking at them. What could he be thinking? He certainly found the kiss and the affection odd, but in a good odd or a bad odd? Peter held the spoon, but his eyes were always from Steve to Tony and back to Steve, over and over. 

“You better get used to it, buddy. We like it a lot to fondle each other, see?” Steve stroked Tony's face, making him smile and make a very pleased face, almost exaggeratedly, groaning happily and saying he loved it. Peter was paying the utmost attention, holding the hold of the spoon with two hands.

“Do I caress him, too, now?” Tony asked Steve very low. He didn't know the answer. 

“Try to stroke his arm gently just a sec to show we also mean him.”

Very carefully Tony did so, and Peter was looking at it, his breath rate speeding, but just remaining there. After a light stroke, Tony pulled his hand back, leaving Peter looking a bit scared. They didn't really know when it was ok to touch him; sometimes it worked well, others he really didn't want it. Maybe something about meal time. Steve nodded and smiled at him, hushing it was alright. They wouldn't always make the right choices.

Only then Peter lowered his eyes to the plate, frowning. Tony noticed he was actually very skilled with his hand for a four year-old (as he had been studying). But as he put it in his mouth, it was even fun to watch - his eyes from side to side while he was clearly thinking, and then widening like a cartoon or advertisement, chewing with will and less caution. He really enjoyed what he was eating. Both Steve and Tony smiled open, watching him eat every spoonful less carefully.

“I’ll go grab the juice.” Steve got up.

“Fuck, I forgot it.” 

Steve turned back, glaring, and Tony covered his mouth, widening his eyes, mouthing ‘sorry’ as he lowered his hands again.

“Tell _ him _ you’re sorry.” Steve said, and walked towards the kitchen.

“Sorry, kiddo. Dad shouldn't be saying bad words.” Tony tapped his own mouth a couple times a little strongly.

_ Uh-oh. I’ve said the d word _ , Tony thought, his fingers ghosting on his lips as he was thinking far away. Dreyfus slip at its finest. But Peter scrunched his brows very bothered, indignant even.

“What’s wrong, Pete?” He bent closer, bowing a little. Peter leaned forward and held his hand, the one with which he hit his lips, pulling it away from his mouth. And he stroked Tony’s face very lightly, a little like Steve had done to him, not more than twice.

He was back to eating and Tony was left there fighting back tears and the will to hug him as tight as he can. If he keeps doing this kind of thing, Tony was pretty sure his heart would go off. 

But damn if that wasn't the sweetest pain he’s ever felt in his life.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a couple of minutes of sheer panic after Steve reached Tony and asked “Where’s Peter?” to be answered by him “I thought he was with you!”. The Christmas party, even if there were less than fifteen people in it and completely closed and safe in their Avenger Tower apartment, seemed huge and a menace for that small time.

“Hey, guys.” It was when Natasha nodded with her head towards the Christmas tree. Peter was sitting on the floor behind it and the tens of gifts, hugging his knees to his chest, breathing faster. Still, the big brown eyes shone open and curious as he always was, the little lights glistening in their reflexion, but it was obvious that all that movement was scaring him. It was hard to find out how to do it right.

They had already made sure that Peter knew and was familiarized with every single person in there before reuniting them. Even Lucky was there, mainly because Peter loved that dog. The problem was that they’ve never been all together in such a crowd.

Steve thanked Natasha low and they started walking closer to the tree, while the Clint, Nat, Bucky, Stephen, Rhodes, Pepper and Sam all started brushing it off and minding their business, not to put pressure on Peter. They just started speaking lower, and all that buzzed in the apartamento as a whole was a murmur along with easy, jazzy songs.

As soon as Peter saw them and they were close enough to be heard, Steve smiled gently and crouched first.

“Can we join you?”

Peter nodded yes, swallowing hard. They crawled in all fours and found their way amid the present boxes, until behind them. Tony sat in one side of Peter, and Steve in the other. The kid shrunk even more, as if ashamed or even a little afraid of their reaction.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Your didn’t do anything wrong.” Steve assured, passing his arm around Peter’s shoulders and feeling him sigh when he caressed his thin, light brown hair.

“Nice hiding spot you found in here. Is it your castle? Your cave?” Tony said, starting to pile the boxes in front of them to make a full wall between them and the party. Tony alone had bought eleven presents for Peter, and just because Steve held him back. With their gifts for everyone else plus the guests gifts altogether, they could indeed make a fort there. 

Peter didn’t answer anything, but chuckled, smiling tenderly. It’s been more than five months and just a little while since he started speaking, so it was incipient yet. They saw that he was perfectly eloquent even so, and the communication itself was hardly a problem at all. It was the socializing part of speaking that he didn’t know how to deal.

Steve picked candy canes inside his pocket and offered one to Tony and the other to Peter, putting his own in his mouth. His chest was warming feeling Peter snuggling closer to his body and a little testing the boy tried the sweet.

Tony crossed his legs and picked one of the boxes.

“You know, Peter, usually in Christmas we have the supper and all the party. Then we all go to sleep and Santa leaves his gifts to everyone. But also people share their own gifts and that’s why there’s these in here. Because all these people got presents for each other, too, to show their affection.”

Steve had thought that Tony wouldn’t like the Santa Claus myth and would be the first one to say how Christmas actually worked to Peter. It was when he told Steve of his own Christmas and how he made up a way to proof Santa’s inexistence - not for science, but to heal a heartbreak, that feeling of being left aside. So he made it clear that it wouldn’t harm at all a traumatized four year-old boy to fantasize about magical stuff, if some logic was kept. After all, magic does exist (that part, however, Tony refuses. He insists that magic is just unearthly or multidimensional science, which isn’t fully wrong after all and not even Strange could deny).

Steve found himself watching Tony as he explained Christmas again to Peter, so soft, so fatherly, unable not to smile and think of how wonderful of a dad he was and would be by his side. It was so cute how Peter was paying attention, suckling on the candy cane, as Tony spoke again about cookies and the food and everything, even though he had explained it all before. 

Then Tony picked one of the boxes and handed Peter.

“This one your dads here are giving you.”

“Thanks!” He answered truly, then hugged the wrapped box against his chest. His voice was always low.

It remained this way, Peter unwrapping the gift.

Steve and Tony shared a soft gaze, that one of being endeared by Peter’s innocence but also hurt deeply by his cluelessness of how normal life worked in the simplest features. Peter had never actually owned anything, not even in his bedroom, even though he clearly understood the concept. He carried some of the plushies with himself around the house but it was clear that it was more out of a necessity to be hugging something than having it, however. It was like some stuff were assigned for him to use, but he didn’t have them.

“Hey, Pete. The gift is under this paper. This is just so that you don’t know what it is and be surprised when you find out what it is.”

He looked at Tony with a scrunched brow, then glanced at Steve.

“Rip it!” Tony said, with a soft smile, and Peter shook his head in denial. Then Steve helped him out to release the tape and open it all carefully. As he unwrapped it revealed an art kit, a really beautiful one even if all kid-like. Steve looked up a little surprised as well, and as he glanced at Tony, he was winked at. Giggling, Steve shook his head and giggled with a melted smile. When Peter opened the box, he smiled wide and his voice was even a little higher.

“This is so nice!" Clearly just the amount of colors and ink and glitters was the reason for Peter to find it so cool, no matter what it was for. "I love it, dads!" 

It struck them like lightning. They referred as themselves as his dads, but it was the first time Peter said it as freely. The boy was just caressing the colors gently while Tony and Steve gazed at each other with tight throats. 'He called us dads?" Tony mouthed, and Steve answered "He did!", just as dumbstruck and emotional. Happiness took place in their chests enough to make both lose track, and they reached out for each other's hands behind Peter's back. Unaware of anything, Peter was all distracted with his gift, gently. Then the kid looked away, as if something behind Tony called out for his attention, and he laughed. As Steve and Tony looked, they saw Lucky walking closer, with a gift box in his mouth.

Peter waved at Clint through the gaps in the gift fort, who was leaning on the wall some meters away. Peter carefully placed his art kid aside and tapped on his own thigh to call the dog closer. Lucky left the gift on his lap and also his big head there, nuzzling on the kid’s leg, making him laugh. It was a delightful sound to hear. They started petting Lucky, who laid between Tony and Peter all clumsy. On top of the dog's head he started gently opening the gift Lucky left there. It was a assembling kit, and they didn’t know if it was purposeful or a Freudian slip that it was all purple.

"Thanks!" Peter said cheerful and loud, unalike his common tone. It made Clint smile wide, then he sat on the floor nearby. Soon, Natasha was as well, sitting beside him. 

"This gift is for Lucky. Give him, would you?" Steve said handing a black wrapping that he picked nearer the tree.

Peter nodded yes. He started speaking to Lucky, mumbling about the same things Tony said to him, about Santa Claus and the gift-giving. 

“I’m going to open it to you, ok, Lucky? You do this.” Peter mumbled, starting to open the gift. Then he turned to Tony with a thoughtful face. "Does Santa also gives gifts to dogs or just we do?”

“Every good boy gets gifts.” Tony tried, glancing at Steve as if asking if it was the right answer.

“Clint said he’s a good boy.” Peter answered gently. 

“Then he gets gifts!” Tony shrugged, then laughed. Peter laughed back, probably just because, and they all did. It wasn’t funny; it was just happy. And they were really happy, 

The moment it revealed itself a plastic toy that made noise when squeezed. At the first squeeze, Lucky stood up, lifting its arse and wagging its tail.

“Throw the toy to him!” Steve said and immediately Peter did so. When he threw, really close in fact, the dog jumped to its feet and while running he dropped an entire wall of gifts. Clint jumped forward to catch the dog and make him stop, hugging him. As he saw what had been done, Peter covered his mouth with goggled eyes. Steve and Tony laughed, then he knew he saw it was ok and laughed as well. 

“Something totally broke in there.” Clint said, Lucky licking his face.

“Uh. Pepper, I owe you a gift!” Tony said.

“I can live with that.” She said, smiling, while also sitting down on the floor. As they said, everyone was taking their reunion there.

“Do you want to give Clint his gift as well?” Steve handed Peter another packet. The fear was apparently gone, as he just ran to Clint and Lucky to give him his Christmas present. He stood there saying something - maybe again the Santa Claus speech. 

“Dads.” Crawling closer to Steve, Tony hushed. 

“I’ll totally cry myself to sleep tonight.” Steve hushed back, chucking. After kissing his cheek, Tony giggled.

“I’ll totally join you, papa.” 

They rubbed their noses together for just a moment. Soon they’d be back to the gift sharing, their hearts bursting, the most beautiful Christmas they had so far, in the very floor of the living room.  
  



End file.
